Manada
by srslycirce
Summary: There are some things Alfred doesn't know about Matthew. Such as how manly he really is. Oneshot, gen. An attempt at a Hemingway-esque style. Warning: Don't read if you have a soft spot for cute fluffy animals.


A Little Disclaimer Before You Run Crying To Your Igloo: The following story is a JOKE. Like, ha-ha, funny? That kind of thing? The intention of the story is to shock and titillate. The actions of Matthew Williams do not represent the actions of all Canadians. The actions of Matthew Williams are blatantly unrealistic in the first place. Matthew Williams is a perfect little angel who pets butterflies and small children. The following events are not portrayed with any attempt at realism. The following events never happened. The following story is not a political statement. I have no political opinions on the matters presented here. I have no political opinions, period. Hetalia fanfiction is not always a social commentary. In fact, Hetalia fanfiction is almost never a social commentary. If you can't handle being offended, why are you in Hetalia fandom? That's all. Enjoy the show!

"You know, Matt, if there's anything you have a talent for, it's pancakes." Al stabbed a pancake and lifted the entire thing with his fork.

"Thanks." Matt began flipping over another batch. The stove hissed.

"Really!" Al spoke with his mouth full. "They're all light and fluffy, and this homemade syrup just takes the cake. I wish I came here every week. Or that we still lived in the same house."

Matt smiled politely.

"But that would mean we still lived with Dad. Which would suck. So yeah." Al chewed. "Still great that you let me stay here for the weekend."

"You're my brother. The meeting's near here. It makes sense." He flipped another pancake.

"Guess so." Al put his fork down. He leaned back. "Not looking forward to that meeting."

"Mm."

"You know what the problem is with the Russians?"

"What?"

"They're Russian." Al slammed his hand on the table. "It's an issue."

"Hah. Yeah."

"This whole oil business is a drag." He gulped down some orange juice, open-mouthed. "Too much trying not to shout at each other. Goddamn, if they really want to disagree with me, they should shut up and start punching. I could take 'em."

"I bet."

"Aww, sweet of you to say that. Not that you would know, would you?"

"Maybe not."

"C'mon, I know you. You wouldn't hurt a fly."

"I guess not."

"Cute little you? Hell, you couldn't."

"Shut up, Al."

"Well, I wouldn't start a fight anyway. Don't wanna start WWIII." He chewed thoughtfully. "You know, I envy you sometimes."

"You? Envy me?"

"Sure! It's difficult, you know, to have the weight of the world on your shoulders. I'm an important guy. Pretty much every decision I make impacts someone or another. It's tough. And you don't have that problem. No one's depending on you."

"It's not such a bad problem to have. Not as bad as some."

"Says you."

"Well. I'd like to be in your shoes." The pancakes Matt was grilling were beginning to burn. He turned off the stove. He wasn't very hungry anyway.

"Yeah, right. So would anyone." Al snorted a laugh and shoved his plate away. It slid across the table. "You know, I should go for a run. Get out some of this aggression. It's so scenic here."

"I know. I love it."

"Damn cold, though." Al stood. He stretched and picked up his bomber jacket. "I think I'll leave for that now." He pulled on the coat.

"Well, okay. See you later."

"I'll be back before the meeting." He took a last swig of juice. "See ya, little bro."

Matt smiled. "Have fun."

"You're the best, Matty." Al ruffled Matt's hair and smiled. He left out the front door.

Matt waited until he heard the door slam before he let himself stop smiling. He picked up Al's used plate and dropped it in the sink. It clattered. He ran the sink for a second to wet the sponge. Then he stopped. Cleaning could wait. It'd be nice to head outside, himself. Get out some of this aggression. He left the plate there and went to the back door. Matt picked up his wool-lined jacket and shrugged it on.

His car was out back. It was an SUV, not a truck like Al had. But it handled the snow just as well. Before leaving, Matt stopped at the back of the house. There was a club there, rubber with a lead core. Heavy but flexible. Matt picked it up. Then he left.

His destination was a bay several miles from his house. It was all slate gray. Gray sky, gray stone, gray water. Gray seals. The water shone dully and the rocks shone with the water. Matt parked a ways away. He got out, popped the trunk, and took out his rifle. It was traditional to shoot first.  
He walked quietly around the edge of the beach. The seals were wary, but they did not leave. No one else hunted here. Besides, Matt always had a way with animals. He looked for the spots of white that were the youngest seals. It was illegal to hunt them, nowadays.

Matt leveled his rifle at one and fired. It was a paralyzing shot, not a killing one. The other seals began to be alarmed now. They barked and slipped towards the water. But the one Matt had chosen would not move. Matt stepped up to his seal. It whined. His boots slid on the rocks but he did not stumble. Matt preferred to look a seal in the eyes. You could tell when it was dead that way.

He was not slow or methodical about the clubbing. He did not bother to prevent the blood from splattering. There was not so much anyway. The sound was dull and did not echo much. The seal made shrieking noises but could not do anything but shake. Matt's breath hissed through his teeth. He did not control his swing. His arms were not tired yet. Eventually the skull was entirely crushed and the eyes were glazed over. Matt kept going for a while anyway.

Then Matt sat down. He was warm now. It was the end of winter. He slipped his coat off thin shoulders and peeled his gloves off trembling hands. His arms were beginning to ache. What would he do with the seal? He hadn't brought his skinning knife. Stupid of him. He would have to go home and get it. Maybe this would make a nice coat. He could use another coat. The kidneys, he knew, could be eaten raw. Matt stared at the seal corpse for a few more seconds. Then he got up and went back to the car. Al would be back soon.


End file.
